


Time Has Come Today

by flyicarus



Series: If Tomorrow Never Comes [3]
Category: Black Donnellys
Genre: M/M, Sibling Incest, Siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-19
Updated: 2012-03-19
Packaged: 2017-11-02 05:10:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/365334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flyicarus/pseuds/flyicarus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time anything ever really happens between them, Kevin and Tommy are playing spin the bottle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Time Has Come Today

And the thing is, they've only ever kissed each other during spin the bottle. That's a fucked up concept if Tommy's ever heard of one. Some goddamn kid's game that doesn't mean anything, you only do it when you're drunk and wanting, like he was, or just feeling lucky, like Kevin said  _he_  was. But Kevin had never won a single bet in his entire life up to that point, and Tommy had a certain feeling telling him that Kevin never would. Not that he would ever tell his brother that, whether it was just a secret kept unsaid between them or because Tommy didn't want to hurt him.

"Tommy," said Sean, "c'mon. There's plenty of us here. Don't always have to be the responsible one."

Tommy shook his head. He was only eighteen, but already he was too old for this. He had grown older than his brothers before he was supposed to. That car, that fucking car, man. The one that ran over Jimmy's leg. The one he was driving. Tommy had always had a thing for cars, he just liked the way they worked, how they  _looked_. But he couldn't stand to be around them since the accident.

"Yeah, Tom," added Jimmy. "Have some fun, get your face outta all that paper and chalk."

"It's not chalk," said Tommy defensively, "I use oil pastels. And I'm too old for this. More importantly, how old are they?"

Kevin saluted Tommy with a beer that he had snagged from Jimmy. "Don't worry, they're legal." He paused. "I think."

And that really got to Tommy because hell, Kevin himself wasn't legal. He was only what, sixteen, and he was playing at being lucky, spinning the bottle and kissing Mary or Lizzie or Anne. All nice girls, all good. But Kevin wasn't lucky enough for any of them, but maybe he was, just  _maybe_. Tommy didn't want to stay to find out, because what was worse than watching what you want, want something else? There was nothing Tommy could think of. But he did stay, only because Kevin had asked him to; and that was something that everyone knew about the Donnelly brothers. What they hated to do, they would do only if a brother asked them. It was that simple. Love.

Spin the bottle, five revolutions onto Anne. With an 'e' she liked to remind people, and she had taken a sip of whiskey just before kissing Jimmy and Tommy knew that he'd have to remind Jimmy in the morning not to go chasing after her. Because, after all, Jimmy had a knack of wanting what he couldn't have, and a good girl was one of them.

Spin the bottle, two revolutions onto Lizzie. She didn't like anyone calling her Elizabeth, it was too formal and there was talk about her daddy being a mean drunk so it didn't surprise any of them that she didn't touch a drop of alcohol that night. She was nice, and she just wanted to kiss a boy. And none were more willing than the Donnelly brothers; it was debatable after that night whether Sean had arranged it so the bottle would land on Lizzie, because even if Sean was a bit of a womanizer he loved saving the broken ones.

Spin the bottle, three revolutions onto Tommy. And he hardly noticed the look Mary sent his way as she stood up, walked out of the Donnelly apartment to the one her ma had down the hall. He didn't notice that Jimmy had left with Anne, probably back to their room with urgent hands and an even more urgent desire. He didn't notice that Sean and Lizzie had left, to God knows where, anywhere except where her daddy was.

All he saw was Kevin. The bottle lay directly between them, typical Guinness brown, and Tommy wished desperately that he were drunk. Because if he were, maybe he wouldn't feel nervous. Maybe he wouldn't want as much, maybe it wouldn't matter afterwards because surely it would. Maybe watching Kevin lean forward, lick his lips, wouldn't make him so goddamn fucking needy. But it did.

Then Tommy leaned forward, and not even the fleeting thought of 'he's my brother' could stop him. His mouth pressed against Kevin's, the pressure firm and sweet as Kevin's hand moved to cup his cheek. He hadn't known that his brother could kiss like that, soft and wanting. Their tongues met and danced, and Tommy could taste the alcohol in Kevin's mouth. He pulled back. It wasn't honest, it wasn't real. And it wasn't right. Tommy didn't want to bother himself with the question of why the right of it came last, and especially with why the hurt look in Kevin's hazy eyes made him ache.

He picked up the bottle and stood up, looking down at Kevin. "Get yourself to bed," he said at length. "I'll bring in the aspirin when I come."

Tommy watched Kevin get up and walk, and he tried to ignore the way Kevin sent an accusing look his way, like "we could've had so much more" or maybe even "thanks for ruining this, we had it going good." But! Maybe that last five words was just Tommy wishing for what he couldn't have. Everyone and their ma knew that Tommy Donnelly lived with his head in the clouds. It was what he heard next, though, that made up his mind to never let it happen again. The sound of Kevin's fist hitting the wall, and his signature  _damn_  as he made his way into the bedroom. Even then, 'damn' was Kevin's word just as so many others belonged to his older and younger brothers.

Kevin wanted this just as much as Tommy did, and Tommy wouldn't let it get further than wanting. Love and happy endings were for the lucky, and hadn't Tommy said before that Kevin would never win a single bet. Apparently, and Tommy had never considered this, neither would he.

And something else? After that night, Tommy never played spin the bottle again, no matter how many times the neighborhood girls begged him too, which happened far too many times to count.


End file.
